On a sunny afternoon in spring,
Touch your fluttering hair.
Who is it in countless gray white nights,
Take the wine you drank alone,
Put the intense temperature,
It's hard to burn into the chest.
Who put the green leaves season after season,
Crushed and rotted in wet soil.
Who holds the flower's face,
Let the beauty of the years feel dejected.
Who covers the eyes of the stars,
The night is shrouded in deep sadness.
Who pulled your skirt,
Clouds are blooming at your ankles.
Who quietly pushes open the river of memory,
Only time is ticking and floating in my ear.
She fluttered the wings of a butterfly,
Fly out of the sky.
Who changed the unchanging climate for thousands of years,
Until the rain flooded to the end of the world,
But never really stayed.
Who will stay for you?